Page 61 of Still My Forever

The last Monday in July, as the boys gathered for their morning practice, the goat clopped up the street with Herman in the lead. He drew the cart to a stop next to Gil and beamed up at him. “Ma said we should go in by ourselves instead of keeping Joseph from work. So here we are!” His pride was unmistakable, and Gil thrilled at the silent message it sent. Finally, Taunte Dorcas had chosen to trust. Not only Herman and the goat, but Gil, as well.

If only the practice on Ava’s song could bring such success. He couldn’t hold the baton tightly enough to control it. The boys followed the signals he made with his left hand for crescendos or decrescendos, increasing or decreasing the volume in response to his motions, but he needed his right hand to direct the tempo. Though the song was written for moderato—a standard tempo—there were phrases that begged to slow into a graceful adagio or quicken the listeners’ pulse by speeding into allegretto. And his left hand refused to deliver those instructions.

Every night, he prayed for regained strength in his injured hand. But every day, pain in his fingers forced him to relinquish his hold on the baton. He couldn’t possibly win thecontest if he couldn’t direct the boys to play the song the way it was intended to be heard. And heneededto win. For the prize money. For affirmation of his calling. For confirmation of where he was to go next. The fleece he’d placed before the Lord was always in the back of his mind.

The women of the community continued delivering evening meals, which Gil appreciated more than ever. Especially given his inability to do little more than stir cornmeal mush with his clumsy left hand. Between Roald’s dependence on his crutches and Gil’s weak wrist, the housework also suffered until Ava took it upon herself to come over on Saturday mornings and help.

He resisted at first. He felt guilty relying on her so heavily. But she’d pointed at him with her feather duster and confessed, “All this helping I do for people…for a long time it’s been my way of nurturing someone. Of being motherly. And, selfishly, making myself feel as if I matter. God revealed this to me, and even though it wasn’t a pretty thing to see, I’m glad I realized it. Because now, when I offer to help, I’m offering to use an ability He gave me for His glory instead of doing it to make me feel better about myself.”

As much as it still bothered him not to be able to see to the cleaning himself, he appreciated her company. Their conversations. Their friendship blossoming again. Sometimes he felt as if the four-year separation had only been a bad dream. He couldn’t wait until he was able to grip his violin bow. He prayed the words he’d written for her song would express what she meant to him. He prayed she would receive them as his commitment to her.

The first Saturday in August, when Onkel Bernard brought dinner and his trumpet for another lesson, both Ava andTaunte Maria came with him. Taunte Maria carried a cake, and Ava held a stack of dishes, napkins, and cutlery. Gil watched them parade past him, his mouth hanging open.

As they laid the items on Roald’s table, he scooped up the kitten batting at his pant leg and followed. “What is all this?”

“A celebration,” Taunte Maria said.

Gil searched his mind. Had he missed an important date? “What are we celebrating?”

Ava sent a shy smile in his direction. “All the missed birthdays from the past four years.” She crossed to him and stroked the kitten’s chin. “Don’t you remember coming to our house for dinner on your birthday?”

How could he forget? Taunte Dorcas didn’t bother with birthday parties. She always said they were too much work, but now he wondered if they were a painful reminder of the birthdays she never got to celebrate with her firstborn. Despite his aunt’s attitude, he’d never felt neglected because Ava’s parents had celebrated the day and made him feel as if he was part of their family. “Of course I do.”

“Jo, well,” Onkel Bernard said as he plinked forks next to each of the plates, “we decided we needed to do something to make up for the ones we missed. And since you likely won’t be here when your next one comes around, the cake will have to suffice for that one, too.”

If the boys won in McPherson, most likely hewouldbe in town for his twenty-third birthday in September. Should he tell them what he was thinking? Before he had the chance, Roald came in the back door, leaning heavily on his crutches. He stopped and gaped at the activity happening in his kitchen.

“What is all this?”

Gil laughed. “Roald, we’ve been living together too long if we say the same things.” He repeated what Ava had told him,then added, “Since this is a missed-birthdays celebration, I guess we can say yours are included, too.”

The man grinned. “That sounds fine to me.” He frowned at the kitten Gil held. “There you are, you blue-eyed rascal. I rounded up your mama and brother and sisters and herded them to the barn. No easy task, I can tell you, even for someone with two good legs! But you hid too well.” He looked at Gil. “Do you want to carry him out with the others?”

Ava took the fuzzy cat from Gil. “I was hoping you might let me have this one, Mr. Willems. He reminds me so much of a kitty I had when I was a girl. Her name was Princess, so I’d call this one Prince. I’ll give him a good home.”

Roald gazed longingly at the kitten. “Well, I’ve grown fairly attached to him. And he’s still kind of small to be taken from his mother. But since you live right close, and I’d probably see him from time to time, I suppose it’s all right. If you’ll let him do a little more growing before you take him for good.”

She beamed. “Thank you, Mr. Willems.”

Then his brows formed a sharpV.“But will you be here to take care of a kitten? You and Gil will recite vows before too long. Then you’ll head off to New York with him. You wouldn’t cart that little cat all the way to New York, would you?”

Gil covered his eyes with his hand and swallowed a groan. Roald had just, as it were, let the cat out of the bag.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Ava

Mama released a startled gasp.Papa made a gargling sound, as if he swallowed a chuckle. Gil slowly slid his hand from his face and gave Ava the most embarrassed look she’d ever seen. She had no idea how to interpret it. So she stood in silence and waited for him to say something.

But he didn’t.

Roald released a gruffahem!that broke the silence. “Did I say something wrong? The way you two have been getting along, I assumed…” He looked from Gil to Ava to Gil again, a sheepish grimace creasing his face. “Maybe I misread things.”

Gil slowly shook his head. “Nä, Roald, you didn’t misread things.”

Ava’s pulse scampered into double beats. She cradled the kitten beneath her chin and held her breath, anticipating what Gil would say next.

“But you’re getting ahead of me. Of my plans.” He ran his fingers up and down the edge of his sling, a habit he’d recently acquired. “I love Ava, and I would like nothing more than to ask her to marry me. But I wanted to get Onkel Bernard’s and Taunte Maria’s blessings first. And I wanted to”—he swallowed—“finish something before I asked.”

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